


love is not over (save you)

by lalalazy



Category: Save Me (Webtoon) - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - The Most Beautiful Moment In Life | HYYH, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arson, I wrote this when I was angry, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, One Shot, References to Depression, alternate alternate title: be gay do arson, alternate title: the gays save the day, i cant believe i just tagged arson as a thing that happens what have i become, this ones for the girls and the gays, yoonkook happy ending bc FUCK the BU dude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:54:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26209765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalalazy/pseuds/lalalazy
Summary: HYYH AU where Seokjin realizes the only person who can save Yoongi from his demise is Jungkook.Some of the dialogue used is taken directly from the ‘Save Me’ Webtoon.
Relationships: Jeon Jungkook/Min Yoongi | Suga
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	love is not over (save you)

**Author's Note:**

> do u ever just get so angry about hyyh u say fuck it and write your own ending at 2am? do u ever just wanna go apeshit ?? no? just me? cool
> 
> n e ways hi guys !!! if u haven’t read anything from me before, hi, welcome!! if u have, welcome back, i missed u!! i haven’t uploaded in a few weeks and i was starting to miss it, so i thought i’d pop in w this random one-shot for funsies while i work on my main project. i’ve been really unmotivated to write and the sequel to almond milk is taking longer than i thought, so i figured i’d publish this to let u guys know i’m still alive lol. i was aiming to finish it within the next two weeks, but i’m having some writers’ block and the story is presenting some major issues, so i’m honestly not positive that i’ll finish anytime soon, but thank u guys for being patient!!! in the meantime, i hope u guys enjoy this hyyh one-shot bc it physically hurt me to write teehee. thank u, i love u all, and i hope u like it :)
> 
> p.s. big thank u to @greyee for beta-reading !!!! love u 🥺🥺

Seokjin paced the hospital room, walking up and down the length of the tiny space in quick recession. The only light in the room was coming from the open window, the moonlight painting stripes across the floor to the bed. He chewed his nails anxiously as he paced. The only thing keeping him sane was the steady beep of the monitor behind him, reminding him that his friend’s heart was still beating. He couldn’t afford for it to stop. He couldn’t afford to go back, to relive the hell that was watching his closest junior destroy himself. He couldn’t afford to have to save him, Jeongguk, and Namjoon again. It would be too taxing on Seokjin’s own mental state, and he needed to remain strong if he was to save the rest of them. 

He told himself that it was fine. Jeongguk and Namjoon were probably laughing it up right now, over a plate of crappy hospital food, reminiscing on old times. He wondered if they were trying to remember what their friend—now with tubes and needles stuck in his skin as he lay unconscious in the hospital bed—had been like so many years before. He wondered how Jeongguk was taking it; after all, he had been closest to him. He told himself all was well. He told himself over and over that it would be okay, that he would survive and they could all move forward, and maybe, in time, they’d all be safe and together again. He told himself they’d go back to the beach. He remembered the Polaroid picture sitting on his desk at home, the one where they’re at the beach. It would be like that day; they would all pile into Seokjin’s truck and drive through the tunnel and scream at passersby and throw food at the other cars, and then they’d go back to the beach, and everything would be the way it was supposed to be. 

He told himself all these things in the hopes he would start to believe it, but it never happened. 

Finally, when he started to think that maybe the steady beeping was a figment of his own imagination, he heard stirring from the bed. He spun around at the sound of sheets moving to face his friend, sitting up, blanket draped over his shoulders.

“Seokjin.” His breath caught in his throat, and he was rendered speechless for a moment. His friend didn’t look like himself; the bandages patching up his skin, the sunken skin on his face, knots in his hair. “You were right.

“Yoongi,” Seokjin finally managed, his voice quiet, almost a whisper. “Are you feeling okay? I’ll go get the doctor.” He forced himself to unfreeze and started for the door.

“All around me, it was burning hot.”

Seokjin in his tracks, almost to the door. 

“I felt like I was suffocating. I thought it was what hell would feel like.”

“Yoongi…” Seokjin muttered, turning around to face him, but he hadn’t moved, still staring at his hands in his lap

“I thought for sure I was going to die right there,” Yoongi continued, a sick laugh hanging in his voice, “and find some peace at last.”

Seokjin felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak. 

“Finally, I would get to escape this living hell and breathe easier.” He paused, fiddling with his fingers. “Yes, that’s exactly what went through my mind. But then…” he trailed off, and Seokjin swore he heard him choke back a dry sob, “someone just has to drag me right back to hell.”

Yoongi finally looked up, his face expressionless, and stared directly at Seokjin. At first, he was almost frightened of his cold stare, but then he realized there was no hatred in his eyes. He just looked tired, like something had died in him and he couldn’t bring himself to deal with it. “It was you. Why?” Seokjin took a step forward, but Yoongi spoke again.

“You should’ve just left me to die.”

Seokjin was visibly shaking at this point, and spun around to get the doctor. He didn’t go back in the room, but the doctor confirmed that his vitals were stable and he was doing fine, so he tracked down Namjoon and Jeongguk and they prepared to leave.

They were outside the building when they heard a crash. It was followed by someone screaming. Seokjin didn’t look to the source of the sound, but instead looked up, to the open window eight stories up, where the white curtains were billowing out of the room and waving gently in the wind.

That was when he started to disassociate. He stopped feeling, and the yells of panic from his friends faded out. He thought he heard Jeongguk yell Yoongi’s name, and saw him run.

That’s when everything faded out.

——

Seokjin woke up in bed, and looked around. He was in his bedroom again, an exact replication of the morning he’d lived so many times already.

He picked up his phone from the bedside table and checked the date. April eleventh.

Seokjin sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. This was it: the worst case scenario.

He collapsed back into bed and laid his arm over his eyes, blocking out the sunlight streaming in from his window. Nothing he did would matter until he found a way to truly save Yoongi. He considered, briefly, just taking extra precautions, staying in the room, sleeping there that night, so he could stop him if he jumped, but he knew that wasn’t what he needed to do. Yoongi would find another way to go. 

Protecting him wasn’t the answer; he needed to get to the root of the issue. What was it that made Yoongi feel so awful he would throw away his own life? He hadn’t always been like this. There had to have been something that happened, something that broke his heart beyond repair.

Seokjin rolled over and clicked his phone screen on again, staring at the tiny print reading _April 11th_ under the time. The date he kept reliving had to have some kind of importance. There had to be a way to solve Yoongi’s problem within the day, without changing any of the events leading up to what would happen later. He already knew that changing anything beforehand would mess it up, and make it so he can’t predict it; he had to fix whatever it was without contacting the guys in any way. He clicked his phone on and off and on again, thinking eventually he’d look at the date and it would say twelve, and he could move on. The phone screen flashed on and off as he clicked, and suddenly, it hit him.

Jeongguk was the solution.

Jeongguk got a call from Yoongi right after Seokjin saved him, and that was how he knew what he was doing. He called Jeongguk. Not Seokjin, not Namjoon, not any of the other guys, just Jeongguk. He’d seen the way Jeongguk had run at the glass the first time Seokjin got that far in the loop, when Yoongi was on the operating table. He heard his guttural scream of anguish when his heart stopped, and saw him fall to his knees and sob, just before Seokjin faded out again. He and Jeongguk had something no one else in the group had. Whatever had happened that caused them to drift apart was where the problem had started, and if Seokjin was to save him, he had to reverse it. 

Seokjin could save him as many times as he wanted, but it wouldn’t truly fix anything. The only person that could save Yoongi was Jeongguk.

He grabbed his keys and left the room. Tonight, he would save Yoongi for the last time. 

——

Seokjin sped to the building where Jeongguk was to fall, Namjoon by his side in the passenger seat. His friend, confused, stayed at the bottom of the building as Seokjin bolted up the stairs to the roof, [praying he wasn’t too late.

Then he spotted Jeongguk, teetering on the ledge of the roof, eyes closed, arms spread. He saw his legs wobble and ran for it, grabbing his jacket just moments from disaster, pulling him down from the ledge.

“Seokjin…?”

“Thank God,” Seokjin muttered, holding him close, his face buried in his hair. No matter how many times he went through with this, it still hurt, every single time. He still had the painful flashback of his body splayed over the windshield of Seokjin’s car, or the sidewalk, in past timelines, his eyes open and unseeing as the puddle of blood around his body grew, every single time he saved him. “What were you doing up there? It’s dangerous!”

Jeongguk shrugged and looked down, the tiniest of smiles playing at his lips. “No reason.”

“Jeongguk!” They turned towards the sound, where Namjoon had burst out of the staircase coming towards them at full speed. He stopped next to Seokjin and huffed. “Why did you come up here? I thought you were gonna fall!”

“C’mon, like I would ever fall from up here.” Jeongguk tucked his hands into his pockets. “I just lost my balance for a second, that’s all.”

“What happened to your face?” Namjoon pressed on.

“I just bumped into a wall.”

“Stop lying. Someone definitely punched you good.” 

Jeongguk looked away, directing his attention to the cars below.

“Okay, that’s enough about me. What are you guys doing here, anyway?” Namjoon fumed as Jeongguk turned to Seokjin. “I thought you were still in the U.S.,” he commented. “But guys, look! The view from here is amazing!” He held his arms out like wings, turning away from them to look over the side, but not daring to step onto the ledge. Seokjin watched his face break out into the wide smile he’d missed so much, his front teeth giving him the slightest bunny appearance.

Jeongguk’s moment of peace was interrupted when his phone buzzed in his jacket pocket, startling him. He dropped his arms and answered it quickly. “Hello? Who is this?”

Seokjin tapped Jeongguk’s shoulder and mouthed a _come with me,_ starting for the stairs. Jeongguk started to follow, along with a confused Namjoon, but stopped in his tracks suddenly, his face lighting up.

“Yoongi!” he exclaimed. “It’s you, right? Where are you? You were gone when I went to see you the other day.”

“Jeongguk, I know where he is, let’s go!” Seokjin said, his voice rushed. The panic was setting in. He didn’t have time to chit-chat. They had to go, _now_ , or they’d miss him.

“Yoongi…” Jeongguk was whispering, ignoring Seokjin completely. His face had fallen entirely, no longer displaying the cheerful, overjoyed expression it had been moments ago. He stepped up to Jeongguk’s side and pressed his face next to the phone, trying to hear.

“It was my fault. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that.” Yoongi’s voice was shaky. Seokjin had never heard him cry before; it was disconcerting.

“No, Yoongi, it’s not your fault! I should have listened to you! I should have helped you!” Jeongguk sniffled, and Seokjin looked at his face, scrunched up, about to cry. He doubted he cared that Seokjin was eavesdropping, or if he’d even noticed his presence.

“No, no, it was. I’m… I’m sorry.” There was silence for a moment, and Jeongguk was crying now, his face red and his eyes watery. “Jeongguk, I should have told you this sooner, but… I love you.”

“I love you, too, hyung,” Jeongguk replied, barely managing words through his shaky breaths.

“No, Jeongguk, I don't mean it like how you say it to the other guys.” Yoongi inhaled sharply. “I’m… _in love_ with you.”

Jeongguk sobbed, his nose running. “I know, hyung. I love you, too.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I _do_ , hyung, I _do!_ ”

“No, you don’t. I know you think you do, but you don’t.” He paused, and Seokjin swore he heard him sob quietly. “No one does.”

“Hyung—”

“But it doesn’t matter. You won’t have to worry about it for much longer.”

Seokjin heard the sharp _click_ of his lighter through the receiver, and grabbed Jeongguk’s arm. “Jeongguk, let’s go, we have to go!”

He was rooted to the spot, sobbing uncontrollably now, his head in his hands, tears mixing with snot and sweat on his face.

“Jeongguk, listen to me!” Seokjin yelled, shaking his shoulders. “We need to get to him, _now!_ I know where he is, come on!”

Jeongguk paused for a second to deliberate, nodded, and pressed the phone back to his face. “Wait for me, Yoongi.” He started to say something else, but Seokjin heard the beep of the line going dead and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, running to the staircase.

“Wait, what’s happening to Yoongi?” Namjoon asked as they took the steps two at a time, speeding to the ground floor.

“He’s gonna kill himself,” Seokjin replied. For a moment, he was struck with how nonchalantly he’d replied, before remembering that they’d never seen it before, pictured it, re-lived it dozens of times over and over again—had it play in their heads on a loop as they tried to sleep at night. He heard the footsteps behind him come to a stop and turned around. “Well, what are you waiting for? We have to go!”

Jeongguk wiped his nose and started running again, now with a newfound fervor in his step, quickly overtaking Seokjin. He was first to the car.

Seokjin was normally a good driver, but today, all skill went out the window. He swerved dangerously at every turn, eliciting honks and yells from other drivers, but he didn’t care. He saw Jeongguk’s determined face, still stained with dry tears, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set in a line. His eyes were watching the road, but they were unseeing, blinded by the whirlwind of emotions swirling in the pits of his stomach.

Seokjin had never seen that face before.

He hoped that meant he was doing something right. 

The truck came to a stop in the parking lot of the motel, parked crooked and sideways over three spots, and Jeongguk jumped out and sprinted for the door before the car even stopped.

“Room 203!” Seokjin yelled, but Jeongguk didn’t acknowledge him. He slammed through the door, past the receptionist desk, coming to the elevators. He jammed the up button impatiently, but he couldn’t stand just waiting, and it was taking too long, so he ripped the door to the stairwell open and dashed up the steps as quickly as he could. His legs ached and felt like rubber, but he kept going, kept running. He couldn’t stop now. He couldn’t afford to lose any more time. 

He reached the second floor and looked up and down the hallway. There it was, at the very end, to the left: room 203, the dirty plaque in the center of the door finger-printed and rusted. 

He sprinted to the door, slamming into it, and started pounding with his fist.

“Yoongi!” he cried, his voice strained and desperate. “Yoongi, please, open up! It’s me, it’s Jeongguk!” There was no response, so he rattled the handle feverishly, only to withdraw with a scream moments later.

The door handle was hot.

He just pounded harder, screaming for him louder, but quickly felt his hope fade away, realizing it was no use. Tears were already pouring down his face again, and he looked all around for something, anything, to get inside. His eyes landed on the fire axe, and within seconds, he had slammed his shoulder into the glass and returned to the door. Jeongguk swung at the handle, pouring all of his strength into the blow, and knocked it off with one hit. He kicked the door open and cast aside the axe.

The room was ablaze, from the curtains to the bedding to the wallpaper, and smoke was quickly filling the room.

“Yoongi!” he screamed. “Where are you?” He tried to squint through the smoke, and he found him, lying faceup on the bed, his hand hanging over the side, and on the ground just below, he spotted Yoongi’s favorite white lighter—the one he’d used to light himself a cigarette behind the school when they cut class so many times—and a few feet away, an empty gasoline can.

Jeongguk pulled his shirt over his face and ran for Yoongi, shaking him by the shoulders. “Yoongi, get up!” His eyes were closed, so Jeongguk put a finger under his nose. There was still a light breath of air on his skin, painfully faint, but it restored his hope. He grabbed him under the shoulders and pulled, dragging him onto the floor and in the direction of the door. 

They reached the hallway, but the fire was spreading quickly, so he started pulling him towards the stairwell from whence he came when he heard footsteps, and the door burst open. 

“Seokjin, help me!” he yelled, and Seokjin grabbed Yoongi’s legs and lifted. They made it to the stairwell and started down the steps, trying to be careful, but still moving quickly. At the first landing they laid him down, and Jeongguk leaned over him. “Yoongi, wake up!” He slapped his face in desperation, but it did nothing. Jeongguk dragged his fingers along his neck to check his pulse. His heartbeat was faint, but it was there.

Jeongguk clasped his hands over his chest and started pushing into his rib cage. “Come on, come on, Yoongi, wake up,” he pleaded under his breath as he worked lacking the energy to say it any louder. He lost count of the pulses quickly, so he estimated and swooped down to breathe for him. He saw his chest rise, but his eyes were still closed, and his pulse still faint, so he just pushed harder, desperately, tears dripping onto Yoongi’s chest. Seokjin had run back downstairs to call an ambulance, so no one heard his sobs begin again as he panted, his breath hitching in his throat with every inhale. “Please, Yoongi, please, don't leave me again, you can't,” he begged to no one, his voice hardly a whisper. He leaned down to give him mouth-to-mouth again, and suddenly he wasn’t breathing anymore, he was just kissing him, kissing life into him, dripping his tears and sweat on Yoongi’s flawless porcelain skin, kissing him with all the passion he’d always wanted to.

This wasn’t how he’d pictured it. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.

But suddenly, Yoongi was kissing him back.

Suddenly, Jeongguk felt his hand grazing his, laying on his chest. It was a weak gesture, but it was movement, and Jeongguk shot up to look at him.

His eyes were open, but his eyelids were droopy and heavy. Jeongguk looked him up and down, noting the rise and fall of his chest, intertwining his fingers with Yoongi’s, and he was speechless. His mouth moved, but no sound came out, just a strange strangled sob, and the tears were flowing faster than they had all night, and Yoongi was _here,_ and he was alive and breathing, and his eyes, welling up like Jeongguk’s, were staring right at him.

“Y-yoongi,” he finally managed, not bothering to wipe his wet face.

“Gguk-ah,” Yoongi replied, his voice hoarse and scratchy. His attempt at speech sent him into a coughing fit, and he curled up into a sitting position. He finished and looked up at Jeongguk, who threw himself on him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders and squeezing him tightly, crying into his ash-covered shoulder. After a moment, he felt Yoongi’s arms around his middle, loosely trying to hug him back.

“I love you so, so, _so_ much,” Jeongguk managed through sobs. He pulled back enough to take Yoongi’s face in his hands and look him in the eyes. “Don’t you ever, _ever_ try to tell me otherwise, do you hear me?”

Yoongi didn’t reply, he just smiled and closed the gap between their faces, kissing him as deeply as he could in his state. Jeongguk sighed happily into his mouth, still crying, but relieved and too exhausted to think of anything other than the fact that Yoongi was breathing and alive and _kissing_ him, finally, after all these years of pining and yearning and wanting more.

“I love you more,” Yoongi whispered against his lips.

They heard sirens outside and Seokjin came pounding up the stairs. “Yoongi!” he yelled. “Is he—oh,” he trailed off, seeing Jeongguk practically on his lap and their faces connected at the lips. They probably didn’t even notice him approaching. “You know what? This is probably ideal,” he said to himself, but part of him wondered what this meant for them. Did this make them… immune, maybe, to whatever was happening to them? Maybe this could be what resolves the whole timeline, once they get everyone back together.

He smiled because, for the first time in weeks, Seokjin was going to go to sleep tonight, and when he woke up, it would be April twelfth.


End file.
